


Day 15: Scars

by evilwriter37



Series: Whumptober 2019 [15]
Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Crying, F/F, Heather!whump, Scars, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 20:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21042488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilwriter37/pseuds/evilwriter37
Summary: Heather tells Astrid about her scars.





	Day 15: Scars

Astrid traced a hand over Heather’s back, feeling lines of scarring under her fingers. The scars were all different. Some she could tell were burns, probably from dragons and possibly metalworking. Others looked like they’d been made by blades.

“How did you get all of these?” Astrid asked. This wasn’t her first time seeing Heather naked, but it was her first time asking about her scars. Astrid was naked too, as they’d just finished lovemaking. They were laying side-by-side, Heather’s back to Astrid so that Astrid could curl around her.

“Eh, just life,” Heather answered, rolling over to face Astrid, who frowned.

“So you don’t want to tell me?”

“Scars aren’t exactly uncommon around here,” Heather said. “Mine aren’t so special.”

“Yeah, but they’re a part of you,” Astrid answered. “Is it wrong for me to want to know the stories they tell?”

Heather bit her lower lip, clearly thinking. She touched a burn scar on her hip. “Got this when Windshear was just learning how to shoot,” Heather said. “I barely got out of the way in time. She felt horrible for weeks, but I don’t blame her.” Then she was bringing her hand up to touch the burn scar on her right shoulder. “This one was from a Typhoomerang. Windshear and I accidentally got into her territory and made her mad.”

Astrid just nodded. As Dragon Riders, they all had their scars from training, but they had them from battle too. She wondered what Heather’s other ones were from.

“What about your other ones?” she asked. “The blade marks.”

Heather’s face fell and she got a very sad, desolate look in her eyes.

“That happened the day…” She stopped to swallow. Speaking seemed difficult. “The day that Dagur destroyed my village.” Tears in her eyes, and now Astrid felt bad about asking. But then again, it was good to talk about things, and Heather hardly ever talked about this despite the pain it brought her. “I was so young, Astrid,” she breathed, her agony evident in her voice. “B-but I fought anyway. I tried so hard, but they still… everyone still died.”

“How’d you get away?” Astrid asked. She brought up a hand to brush one of her tears away, then let her hand land in her soft black hair. 

“When I realized it was hopeless, I took a rowboat,” Heather answered. “No one tried to shoot me. They’d already fought me and hurt me. They probably thought I was going to die.  _ I  _ thought I was going to die. I was bleeding so much, a-and there was blood on me that wasn’t even mine.” Her tear-filled eyes had taken on a glazed look, like she was seeing something that Astrid couldn’t, again seeing the horrors that she had witnessed. “Th-that was the first time I’d ever killed anyone, and gods, it was awful, but I had to, I  _ had  _ to. A-and I still couldn’t save my parents. I tried. I tried so hard!”

Astrid wrapped her arms around Heather as the other woman began sobbing. Heather held her too, pressed her face into her shoulder, just cried. That was good. Heather never cried, even though life had been so cruel to her. Instead she just pushed it all down, but it had to come out sometime and somehow. Now was the time. 

“You’re okay, Heather,” Astrid told her, stroking at her back, feeling those scars. “You’re safe. You’re with me.”

“I couldn’t save them!”

“You tried your best. You did. They know that.”

“ _ How? _ ” Heather demanded. “They’re  _ dead _ .”

“They know because you’re their daughter. They know you would have done anything to save them.”

“I-I miss them,” Heather spluttered. “I miss them so much. And I’m s-so scared without them.”

Astrid held Heather tighter. “You’re so brave, Heather,” she told her. “So, so brave. The bravest woman I’ve ever met.”

Heather said nothing to this, just cried, and Astrid let her. There was no way she was going to stop this release of emotion that Heather so desperately needed. 

After a time, Heather stopped crying, began to breathe evenly again.

“Thank you, Astrid.” Her voice was weak, tired.

“Of course, Heather.” Astrid stroked her hair. “I’m here for you. I’m always here for you.” 


End file.
